


Family Attire

by DawnsEternalLight



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Batman And Robin - Freeform, Bonding, Brothers, Damian Wayne Feels, Dick Grayson has terrible fashion sense, Dynamic Duo, Fluff, Funny, Gen, Humor, and it's on display here, dick as batman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 08:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9313763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Dick takes Damian clothing shopping while also showing Damian how much he belongs to the family. DickBats Era fic.





	

Damian scowled at the hand-me-downs laying on his bed. Pennyworth had placed them there the same way he had most days since Damian had arrived. It was Damian’s own fault for bringing little more than the clothes he and Mother had packed when they’d come to Gotham to help Father. Not that it had done any good in the end. Father was gone, and Damian was alone. Left with a legacy he was lucky to be a part of.

He was grateful to Grayson for taking him in, grateful to learn more about his Father and his work, but that didn’t stop him from missing home, his Mother, and having clothes that were all his own. Pennyworth had promised him a wardrobe soon, he’d been measured and orders had been placed. They had even contacted his mother and requested some of his things be sent over.

The promise did nothing to ease the pit in his stomach. He missed his thobes, soft loose fitting pants, and even his old workout clothes. That wasn’t to say he’d never worn jeans or a t-shirt before, he simply preferred his traditional clothing. It was comfortable, familiar, and something to hold onto in the flurry of changes surrounding him.

He entered the kitchen wearing Pennyworth’s selection, and one of Grayson’s hoodies. It was too big for him, but Damian didn’t care. It was big and warm and he’d chosen it himself. Alfred raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment. Grayson did.

Damian was learning that the oldest of his father’s adopted children always commented, even when none was required. He was still trying to decide how he felt about it. The constant chatter was new to him and strangely disarming. It made him wonder if it was something Grayson used as a technique. He doubted it, but kept the idea in his mind in case it proved to be true.

“I’ve been thinking.” Dick said, as he leaned back in his chair to look him over. “I know Alfie’s ordered you some stuff, but what do you say about a shopping trip?”

Damian narrowed his eyes at his brother. “That sounds like something Cain or Brown would suggest.”

“Trust me, I’m much more fun to shop with.” Dick grinned at him before continuing. “Tim’s old stuff can’t be fitting you too well, and I know Alfred’s tastes. I’m sure he’s ordered you a perfectly respectable wardrobe, but—” He paused his speech to give an apologetic look at Alfred before continuing, “I think it’s about time you got to pick out something you want.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond. The offering was unexpected, and left a strange feeling in Damian’s chest that he couldn’t place. He’d been expecting a wardrobe, but had never expected to have a say in its design. Even Mother had orchestrated his growing up. He pondered his answer too long, giving Grayson enough time to decide for him.

The man downed his coffee in a gulp and hopped off the kitchen stool. “We don’t have any engagements until this evening, and I think Alfred will let you put off any schoolwork you’ve got left until later.” The words had every meaning of making the trip a requirement, but Dick didn’t tell Damian he had to go.

Damian would never tell his brother, but the freedom to choose Grayson always gave astounded him. His life up until Gotham had been a string of predetermined events. Training, lessons, art, everything was scheduled, and nothing was optional. He still liked keeping to a schedule of his own. Even so, there were a lot of gaps and spaces to allow freedom of decision and alternate plans for the day. The strange feeling in his chest was warming into something like gratitude, but he pushed it down with a shrug.

“I had no other plans for the day.”

* * *

“Come on out Dami, I want to see how it fits.”

Grayson’s voice was muffled through the changing room door. A door Damian never wished to open again. Or, at least, never wished to open while he was dressed as he was.

“I refuse.” He called back, and glared at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the back of the door. The sweater vest he’d tried on was of a style bordering on illegal. If it wasn’t, he’d have to contact someone to make it so.

He didn’t know where to start with the sins woven into the fabric. It might be the color, an off-putting shade of tan, only made worse by the red and black blocks of color in opposing corners. Or perhaps it was the cacti decorating each colored patch. His eye caught on the glittering cactus shaped buttons and he decided. It was them. Their odd shape made it impossible to button the sweater closed with ease, and Damian was sure they would catch on everything.  

“Damian. Please?” At this point his brother sounded pitiful. Damian decided he might as well give in. It was like pulling a band aid off, once done the pain soon faded.

He threw open the door and scowled at his brother for a moment before his own mouth dropped open in astonishment. Mirrored before him was the exact same vest, only larger and on Grayson. The man wore it with all the confidence of a vacationing father in shorts, sandals, and socks. Instead of being self-conscious he was fawning over Damian.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It should be burned.”

Damian was beginning to realize that Pennyworth must have a heavy hand in his brother’s wardrobe. In the four stores they’d visited, he’d suggested nothing but bright colors and inane patterns. So far Damian had been able to successfully thwart his attempts, but this vest had caught him off guard. Grayson had snuck it into the pile of clothes he’d sent Damian into the dressing room with, then refused to agree to buy anything else until the boy tried it on.

At the time, he thought Grayson’s insistence had been simply to see Damian try on one of his choices. The real reason now stood before him. When else would Dick have the chance to get them both in matching clothes? Damian should be angry, or irritated by the embarrassment of the entire situation.

Instead he wanted to smile. Grayson continued to surprise him.  No one had ever wanted to match clothes with him before, let alone gone through the trouble of making it happen. The day of shopping had been exhausting, but Damian already decided the experience was far more valuable than the clothes purchased.

“It’s not that bad.” Dick said looking down at his own. “You’ve got to admit, it’s comfortable.”

“Comfortable is relative.” Damian said. “Are we finished here?”

Dick nodded. “We are. I’ve even paid for the stuff already. Just let me get your tag.” He reached forward and sliced the price tag off the sweater with a knife from his pocket. “There, all set.”

Damian gaped at him again. “Grayson! I did not approve of this purchase!”

“But I did. Come on Lil’ D. You wanted to look like me earlier, this way we’ll both have something fun to wear.”

“That was not the point of my taking your hoodie earlier.” Damian snapped.

Now Dick’s smile turned from playful to gentle, it’s edges softening as he ruffled Damian’s hair. “I know. If you want, think of the sweater as an initiation to the family. Embarrassment is the ultimate ‘I love you’.”

With that, he pushed past Damian to collect the boy’s things from the dressing room, handing them off to a sales clerk to bag. All the while Damian stood there dumbfounded. He was trying to wrap his mind around Grayson’s words. Embarrassment was not love, was it?

He remembered league members picking on one another before high fives and laughter. Bonding rituals Mother had called them. She’d told him they were things he didn’t need to worry about, because he didn’t need to bond with the men. He’d felt a sense of jealousy towards them he hadn’t been able to figure out at the time. Now he thought he understood it.

The sweater, as ugly as it was, gave Damian a chance to have something of his brother. They would have the same thing, a matching outfit choice to be cooed over by family friends or made fun of by brothers. Something that tied them together, not through pattern, but through a shared memory. Through a desire to belong, and a desire to offer acceptance.

“I won’t ever wear it again, you know.” Damian told him as they left the store, bags in hand.

“Of course you won’t.” Dick smiled. “But I’ll wear mine.”


End file.
